Tears of a Shadow
by Charmina
Summary: I feel like screaming straight out, at the top of my lungs, to pour everything out of me in one long cry, just to see everyone jump in surprise and turn to look at me. To just see me. Oneshot


Disclaimer – J.K Rowling, Warner Bros and a lot more people own Harry Potter and co, sadly I'm not one of them...

Author Notes – The new and improved betad version! Thanks goes to the ever so wonderful Sailor C!

**Tears of a Shadow**

_I feel like a shadow_

_Walking behind who you think I am_

_Just like my shadow_

_Wanting to see the sun again_

_I'm your shadow_

_And I'm lost_

_Just like my shadow_

_Shadow – Maria Mena_

It's strange how you can stand right next to some people, your best friends even, and it seems like they don't even notice you are there. That's what it feels like for me right now. I just stand here, watching, as they all talk cheerfully to one and other, laughing as Seamus cracks a joke and rolling their eyes when Hermione reprimands them for something. I'm right here, but I still don't feel like a part of their group. I force a smile on my face – or at least I think I manage too – and try to pretend that I am involved in this whole thing, and that they actually care. But they don't see me and, as I have many times before, I wonder if they ever have seen me. During all these years have they ever really looked at me and seen the person I trully am? I'm starting to doubt it.

They are moving now and I follow them where ever it is we are going. Lately I haven't been able to focus enough to pay attention to where I am supposed to be – I don't have the strength for it – so it is easier to simply follow the others.

As we enter the Defense room I sit down in one of the corners by the window with the rest of the group around me. I look out the window at the rain that keeps falling down on the already soaked earth. Autum is already here; the season for dying. I turn my eyes towards the rest of the group again and realise that I have never felt so alone before.

The Professor enters and great everyone with a smile before starting to write on the board. I slowly pick up my quill and write down the lines on paper, and as I watch I realise that I can't understand a word that is being written. It almost disturbes me that I don't care about that, but I push it to the back of my mind and keep writing.

Before going out the door after class I throw a glance at the board one more time and my eyes meet those of the professor. He gives me a big smile and I think I return it; either way, he looks just as cheerful when he turns away again. When I think about it I wonder if he was even looking at me or just the group in general.

I sit down by the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and absently pick at my food, letting my thoughts wander their own way. I feel like screaming straight out, at the top of my lungs, to pour everything out of me in one long cry, just to see everyone jump in surprise and turn to look at me. To just see me.

But I don't.

I don't dare since there is a part of me that fears that no matter how loud I scream they won't hear me; that no matter how much energy I put in that scream there still won't be anyone that will notice. It's an absurd thought, I realise that, but after it has entered my thoughts I can't get it out. So I stay silent, picking at my food.

As I let my eyes drift over the many people around me, they finally settle on the eyes of Dumbledore. He is looking back at me with that twinkle still present in his eyes. They seem to twinkle in a way that tells the whole world that there is nothing to fear and that nothing will ever go wrong. They seem to say that the world is a wonderful place that could never be destroyed.

I can't understand how that twinkle can be there, because I know that there are things to fear and that everything can go wrong. I know that the world is a terrible place already on the verge of being destroyed. But his eyes continue to twinkle as he gives me a nod before turning his eyes towards the rest of the school again.

I wonder if these people are so ignorant that they can't see the world falling around them, just as they can't see me. I realise the irony in it all; that I, the one no one notices, am the only one able to see it. Is there a choice they have all made, to not see what is wrong in this world, to pretend that everything is alright? I want to tell them that it isn't, and that they can't ignore it forever, but again I stay silent.

I feel so trully alone now. It's dark where I am and I wonder if there ever will be light again.

Later in the common room I sit staring in to the fire and my hands twitch to just reach out and touch the dancing flames. To feel them dance against my cold hands and let their life seep in to my body, warming me from the outside in. I want the coldness to disappear and as the flames would dance and reach inside me, light would reach my soul, and this endless darkness would vanish. An then I would dance with them, become one with the flames, and perhaps the twinkle in Dumbledores eyes wouldn't be for nothing.

But I don't reach out to the flames; instead I sit on my hands to keep them in place. I don't dare touch the flames beacuse I know I will only be disappointed. They wouldn't save me from the cold and the darkness, and they wouldn't let me dance with them. And that thought hurts so much that I don't want to reach out to the flames anymore, for I fear that their rejection will hurt even more.

I look around the common room at all the happy faces and wish that I was just one of them. I wish that there wasn't this burden on my shoulders, this destiny to full-fill and this darkness to overcome. I wish that I could also be one of these carefree people that didn't have to worry about anything worse then their homework. I wish that I had never had to deal with the dark side of life, with the destruction and death that seemed to follow my every move. I wish I could be one of them, and not an outsider looking in.

And I cry. I cry as my soul twists and turns in the darkness, begging for light that will never come. I cry for all that I have ever been and the fact that no one has seemed to notice me falling. The despair takes control of me as the tears falls in an endless stream down my cheeks; never slowing, never stopping.

And I cry for the fact that not a single tear leaves my eyes, that they remain dry and unemotional through my anguish.

For I am only a shadow of the boy I used to be, and shadows don't cry.


End file.
